


rare and sweet as cherry wine

by schwartzys



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angels, Blood, Blood Kink, F/F, F/M, Gods, Happy Ending, Making Out, Multi, Oral Sex, Period Sex, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Smutty, Vampires, angel cosette, basically eponine is a vampire and she eats out people on their period to get the blood she needs, blink and you miss it courferre, blink and you miss it montprouvaire, but look where i am, but only kinda, eponine is bi as hell and happy, god marius, i have a death of a salesman essay I should be writing, im just trying to expand the famndom for marieposette, im sorry, its so small and im so sad, marius is dumb, monster au, sorta - Freeform, vampire eponine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:09:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9375932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwartzys/pseuds/schwartzys
Summary: eponine only seems to meet people she likes when she's only looking for a bite to eat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR s/o & lov to hunterbydaywhovianbynight for beta'ing this ish for me & supporting my writing of porn with blood. Hope y'all like this bc the marieposette fandom is tiny as hell and I'm trying to do My Part. (title is from cherry wine by hozier) enjoy xx

**_Five Years Ago_ **

 

Eponine had met Cosette first, one night when she was out for a hunt. The bar was crowded and noisy, with too-loud bass thumping in her ears and chest. It resonated, rattling her bones, making her feel anchored to the floor and the people around her, like a heartbeat. Not like she would know, though. The vampire community in this town was small but close-knit--  they had some monthly meetings along with druids and nymphs, and even though Eponine rarely attended, she had a few individuals in that group she got along with quite well. It was, after all, nice to have friends that wouldn’t die absurdly soon. Grantaire, tonight, was by her side, looking for prey-- it had been a month since they last fed, and Eponine could feel the hunger rising in her throat like bile, could feel her teeth aching in her gums to be moved, to bite. Her skull was practically buzzing. R, next to her, took a long swig from his drink. It was too dark of an amber to be just whiskey. This was a vamp-owned var, and she could’ve asked for a shot or five-- should’ve, maybe, before she got too desperate-- but veinal blood was never quite as sweet as the type she preferred.

“It’s harder and harder to find menstruating people in public nowadays,” she complained to R under her breath. He said nothing, but smiled into his drink.

“Scared you’ll have to be a bit less picky?’ Eponine swatted his arm gently. 

“Scared I’ll have to start making house calls.” R grinned devilishly in response, exposing his canines-- long and purposeful. Contrary to pop culture, werewolves were just as bloodthirsty as the typical vamp; they, too, needed some blood to keep them on their feet. Rather, paws. R then nudged her, waking Eponine from her musings--

“Blue blouse. She’s right on her cycle-- second day.” R had an even sharper sense of smell than she did. 

“I owe you one,” Eponine said, taking off. R might’ve told her just what she owed him, or maybe told her something else just as crucial, but she was too far away-- and too lost in reverie-- to hear. She slid up to the girl in the blue blouse, and right away could smell the blood on her-- and holy mother of Dracula, it was strong. Eponine wondered for a moment why she hadn’t smelled this girl right as she walked in. Or, heck, just  _ noticed _ her. She was striking, with dark, thick, wavy hair cut to her collarbone, pale eyes, and a calming aura. Besides the thick and tangy smell of blood, she had another scent to her-- magnolia? Eponine was a weak, gay vampire. She slotted herself next to the stranger at the far end of the bar, waiting for the girl to take notice. It didn’t take long. Having those pale eyes turned to face her was-- wow. 

“Come here often?” Eponine heard herself say. She contemplated staking herself through the heart right then and there. Miraculously, the girl giggled.

“Only sometimes,” she responded with a soft smile. “I don’t get out much. What about you, do you use outdated pickup lines on strangers in disreputable bars often?” If eponine hadn’t been only looking for a snack, she might’ve been incredibly charmed. Unfortunately, she was more distracted by the blush slowly gracing the girl’s cheeks. Her stomach growled. 

“I’m Eponine,” she said, paired with her trademarked “girls-and-guys-alike-will-swoon” smile, only to have it reciprocated.  _ Rude _ .

“Cosette,” the girl-- Cosette-- responded, with a gentile incline of her head. 

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing in such a disreputable locale as this?” drawled Eponine, leaning in further. She insisted to herself it was purely for seduction, and not to smell stronger the (it was definitely magnolias) essence of Cosette. 

“Hiding from the police,” Cosette deadpanned. Eponine almost spat out her nonexistent mouthful of drink.

“That’s-- quite a story,” she says after swallowing her surprise.

“It’s the truth,” Cosette said, innocently. “I was a part of a protest down the street-- things got messy.” Eponine remembers faintly hearing something about a peaceful demonstration from Jehan or one of them. Rationally, she should’ve realized that if someone like Cosette was at the same protest as Jehan and them, something was up. Rationally, she should’ve known that she should’ve smelled Cosette the moment she walked in. Rationally, Eponine was very, very hungry. She leaned in closer to Cosette, fragrance enveloping her, until she could count every subtle freckle under Cosette’s eyes.

“Maybe you’d like to continue telling me that story--” her hand slid up Cosette’s arm, making the other girl shiver-- “back at my place?”

“That sounds…  really nice,” Cosette said, voice so breathless it was practically a whisper. Eponine kissed her so quickly she almost didn’t finish her sentence. Cosette kissed almost like she talked-- pliant, gentle, sweet, but at the same time surprising. Eponine licked into her mouth with an edge of desperation. Cosette tasted like strawberry and vodka and Eponine was starving and drunk. She broke away with a gasp. 

“My place is-- I live right above the bar”

“Oh,  _ perfect _ ,” Cosette said, in a voice that was almost a moan, and Eponine cut her off with a soft whine, kissing her away to the back exit, tugging Cosette up the fire escape, lost in the feel of incredibly soft hair.

 

They barely made it to Eponine’s bed before Cosette broke their kiss long enough to peel her and Ep’s shirts off. The girls met again like magnets snapping into place, tumbling onto the mattress. One of Eponine’s hands was in Cosette’s hair-- she was rapidly becoming obsessed with the silken feel of it-- and the other unclasped her bra in one, fluid motion, a trick she’d learned in the 40’s. 

“Well, aren’t you the suave one,” murmured Cosette into Eponine's ear, her voice low from kissing. Eponine’s stomach tugged in need of more than one kind. She dislodged one hand from Cosette’s hair to fumble at the clasp of her jeans. 

“Um, hey, you should know I’m on my-- I don’t know if you’re ok with--” Eponine kissed the words roughly out of her mouth.

“Don’t worry about it,” she whispered into Cosette’s ear before biting down hard on the soft lobe, and she could  _ feel _ Cosette shudder against her. Eponine worked her mouth down the soft curve of Cosette’s neck, restraining herself from biting down on the major artery there, and down to one nipple, which she bit just to feel Cosette gasp. She knew she would. Eponine dragged her tongue down her stomach as she exhaled shakily, down to the hem of Cosette’s underwear. Eponine looked up at Cosette to survey her handiwork. Her light eyes were dilated with lust, her mouth bitten and raw, and her cheeks flooded deep red. She was absolutely wrecked. 

“You good?” she thought to ask, brow briefly twisting.

“As long as you’re good,” Cosette panted. “I’m, uh. I’m great as a matter of fact.” Eponine smiled, tugging down Cosette’s panties. 

“In that case,” she murmured, and plunged her tongue into Cosette’s damp slit. Cosette let out a yelp of surprise, making Eponine grin against her for a moment. She lapped all around Cosette’s hot entrance, sucking the metallic taste of blood from all around her slit. Ep moved her tongue expertly upward, producing a sharp intake of breath from Cosette. She moved her hand down to grasp at Eponine’s hair. Eponine braced one hand on the upper inside of Cosette’s thigh and moved the other to crook her fingers into Cosette, earning another soft moan. Eponine sucked on her clit, while still moving downward to lap up the blood and precome leaking from Cosette’s entrance. One of her hypersensitive canines brushed against Cosette, making Eponine moan around her clit, and Cosette fucking  _ ground _ herself into Eponine’s mouth, all the while making tiny gasps and moans and  _ yes _ ’s and  _ oh god, there _ ’s.  Eponine couldn’t remember being this turned on in her entire life-- and that's saying something. She had spent twenty years in a prison and had fucked countless people, sweaty and desperate, on the dirt floor of a cell. She had spent decades as the wife of a wealthy duke who was excellent in the sack. She had laid with casanova himself. She had once gone down on a nun for an entire morning mass, hiding under the pew, and only let the woman climax during the Hallelujah chorus. And for whatever reason she could think of nothing she’d rather be doing for all of eternity than this. She was absolutely lost in the combination of the distinct smells of blood and sex, heady and bright, invading her brain, numbing all other senses and making her dizzy with want. She was drunk on the sense of power, of making this pretty, pure girl fall apart with her mouth. Eponine jerked her fingers upward inside Cosette and dug her nails into her pillowy thigh, and Cosette spasmed as she came with a cry. It wasn’t until after Eponine caught her breath, after cleaning and the last bit of blood and juices from Cosette’s groin, that she realized she came too, from just from rutting against the mattress and the intoxicating feeling of  _ Cosette _ . Then, she realized Cosette was talking.

“-- and shit dude oh my god I don’t know what kind of fetish or kink this is but I have no problem with it do you need me to take care of you or--” Cosette cuts off when she sits up and looks at Eponine. It’s only then Ep realizes she still has her fangs out. Her heart sinks to her toes. Now she’s going to have to kill this sweet nice girl who was undeniably incredible and really hot and--

“Ok, yeah, in hindsight this makes so much sense,” Cosette said, her voice a little high pitched but not fearful. In fact, her expression is the farthest thing from confused. Her face looked a little bit like a sunrise would, if a sunrise could be a facial expression. Eponine knows she must look a wreck-- her bra is half off, her fangs are out and jutting over the top of her bottom lip, and the lower half of her face is smeared in probably an obscene amount of blood. With a full stomach, though, Eponine’s brain starts to work again. She takes in Cosette’s relative calmness at having been eaten out by someone with fangs. She takes in Cosette’s aura of relaxation and happiness. She also takes in the fact that Cosette has unfolded from her back a very large pair of cream and brown wings.

“Jesus christ,” Eponine said, “I fucked an angel.”   
“And I fucked a really unobservant vampire,” says Cosette, somehow still chipper. Eponine really thinks the best response to this would be something yelled very loud about angels in general and the fact that Cosette definitely doesn't smell like flowers and probably an apology thrown in there somewhere. Unfortunately, it’s been a very long day, and Eponine’s only response is to faceplant into her pillow and go to sleep.

 

Eponine expects the angel-- Cosette-- to be gone in the morning, she really does. Instead she wakes up to a cup of hot coffee and the unfairly inviting sight of Cosette in one of Eponine’s favorite shirts. 

“I like your posters,” Cosette offers. Her face is like starlight. Of course she's a morning person, thinks Eponine, and grumpily accepts the coffee. 

 

**_Three Years Later_ **

 

They find Marius at the same bar. It’s karaoke night, and Cosette and Ep are there with other members of the Les Amis, laughing at Courf and Ferre’s very moving and definitely not sober rendition of “Somebody To Love.” Cosette is on Eponine’s lap and she’s just tipsy enough that her movements are floppy and languid, Ep has a buzz going that makes her feel warm and giddy, and Cosette’s skirt is  _ very _ short. 

It’s a good night. 

Montparnasse interrupts Eponine’s careful concentration on giving Cosette a hickey right beneath her jaw, where she can’t hide it, when they whisper-yell,

“Holy mother, that guy smells delicious.” Eponine looks up from Cosette’s jaw and scans the bar blearily for the guy in question. Right when Courfeyrac hits a very off-key note on “love,” she makes eye contact with him. He’s tall and relatively lanky, with dark coloring and a lost puppy look to him. And Montparnasse is right-- she can smell him from across the room, and he’s absolutely intoxicating.

“Alright, who has dibs?” she asks the group at large. “Monty, you saw him first.” Montparnasse shakes their head. 

“I just ate, I’m all good. Someone else should take him.” Eponine looks at her friends, questioning.

“You go, ‘Ponine, you never drink straight,” R suggests.

“She never does anything straight,” giggles Jehan, wasted. Montparnasse high fives them. 

“R’s right, you should show us all how it’s done,” says Bahorel, grinning. It exposes his unnaturally pointy teeth throughout his mouth. Eponine snorts.

“If you’re all so insistent…” she trails off. “Cosette, you alright with this?” Cosette shrugs loosely.

“Be free. Have fun. Live while you’re young.”

“I’m 332 years old this November, babe.”

“A real spring chicken. Go, be free.” With Cosette’s blessing, Eponine snorts, and makes her way over to the young man at the bar. He’s holding a frilly, fruity-looking cocktail, and the closer she gets to him, the more terrified he looks. His shirt is buttoned wrong. She’d feel sorry for him, if she wasn’t so used to this. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” she says in a voice that could melt butter. The kid gulps, the muscles of his jaw working overtime.

“Yeah, I-I don’t get out much,” he replies, nervously gulping at his beverage. “You know, the daily grind.” He laughs once, a sharp, “HA” produced like a squawk. 

“Yeah, totally,” Eponine says, brushing away his awkward commentary. She grabs him by the belt loop of his pants and pulls him in until their chests touch and noses brush, making him let out a strangled gasp. “Has anyone ever told you you have beautiful eyes?”

“Y-yes? I think so? Not that I can remember--” 

“Shhhhhhh,” she said, placing her hand on the side of his neck (a practiced gesture that looks romantic, but is also useful for locating a main artery). “Do you wanna get out of here?”   
“Isn’t that y-your girlfriend? Back at that table,” he said, gesturing in the direction of the Les Amis. 

“We have an… open relationship. It’s okay with her,” Eponine purred, grinding her thigh into his crotch. She didn’t intend to screw this guy by any means, but getting the blood pumping faster meant more convenient feeding.

“Oh, wow, okay then--” Ep pulled the tall stranger back toward the hallway that lead to the bathrooms and pinned him against the wall as fast as she could, crashing their lips together in one fluid motion. Her tongue laved across his teeth forcefully, opening him into the kiss and sucking his tongue into her mouth. The boy made a garbled sound that might’ve been “fuck” (or “duck,” but why he’d be talking about poultry at a time like this Eponine didn’t know). She took this as further invitation to continue and nipped at his lip, not enough to draw blood-- not  _ yet _ , anyway. To Eponine’s surprise, the guy wasn’t trying to fight back, or to dominate her in the kiss, like most of the cheesy virgins she killed. His mouth was soft, pliant against her own, letting her take command. One of his hands slid up to cradle her cheek. His movements were just shaky enough, his lips slightly chapped enough to make Ep feel a tug at her heartstrings at the thought of draining him of all life. All dorky, obviously inept life. But, the smug look on Montparnasse’s face when she came back to the table empty-stomached would be too much to handle. She began kissing down the column of his neck, nosing for the sweet spot that wouldn’t hurt him until it was too late. The boy was still gasping breathily in her ear, letting out small whines when she would suck on a pressure point. There, where his pulse was. Eponine briefly wondered if anyone would miss him before she ejected her fangs and sunk in. Her mouth was flooded at last with warm liquid-- far too warm. Eponine pulled away, spitting the scalding, corrosive liquid onto the floor. She opened her eyes and of  _ course _ . Of course it was ichor. She looked up to meet the eyes of the young boy-- god, she corrected herself. He must’ve been a stupid, very stupid minor god, who didn’t realize how tasty and lethal he was to innocent monsters like herself. The god’s eyes were wide, and the wound on his neck, dripping gold, was already beginning to heal.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” he asked, moving toward her. She batted him away. 

“Fine,” she spat. If she was capable, Ep would’ve been completely red in the face for not being able to tell the difference between a human and a (dumb) minor god. “Do me a favor, and buy yourself some very strong cologne before every vamp in town has freakin mouth blisters the size of Alaska.” His face was blank, clueless. Eponine sighed. “You’re a god. You smell tasty and full of blood, because you’re full of ichor. Vampires and maybe some werewolves and other assorted creatures will try to drink your blood. Ichor burns monsters. No bueno. Okay?” The god nodded.

“I really am sorry,” he said, forehead creased in concern. “I’m kind of new at this.” Eponine frowned.

“How long have you been a god?”   
“About two days now, I think,” he said apologetically. “The guy said he owed my dad a favor, but, well, my dad just passed away, and my dad wanted the best for me, but I feel really guilty to be honest because I didn’t even know my dad that well and now I’ll never get to know hima and  don’t know if I deserve all this--”

“What’s going on back here?” Cosette breezed into the hallway. “You were taking longer than usual, everything okay?”

Eponine gestured in the direction of the ichor splashed on the god’s neck. “Dumbfuck here has been a god for two days and doesn’t know the cologne rule. Nothing damaged but my ego.” Cosette clucked over the burn on Eponine’s lip. 

“Honey, you really need to be more careful about this sort of thing.” She then turned to the god. “I’m so sorry about all that, it was a complete misunderstanding.” Eponine could practically feel the divine charm rolling off her in waves. He smiled wobbily.

“It’s okay. I honestly didn’t feel a thing.”   
“I know,” muttered Eponine. Cosette shot her a look, then turns back to the god. 

“Oh, your poor shirt. Do you need a napkin?” Cosette produced a stack from seemingly thin air-- how she had any pockets on a skirt that short was a mystery. The god smiled gratefully.

“Thanks. You’re an angel.”   
“Why, yes I am,” Cosette giggled. “May I ask your name?” The god held out one hand, smiling broadly.

“My name is Marius. Marius Pontmercy.”   
“And I’m Cosette.”   
“And I’m hungry,” said Eponine. 

“Oh, hush,” Cosette said affectionately. “Come along now, Marius. Let’s go and introduce you to our friends.”

When they got to the table, Courfeyrac exclaimed, “Oh, good, you found Marius! Guys, this is Marius, and he just got granted godhood, isn’t that wild?”

“It’s a real pleasure,” Eponine said, holding an ice cube to her lip. 

 

**_Present Day_ **

  
Now, Eponine wakes up in an empty bed, and is not alarmed. She awakens to the pale, milky light of late morning streaming through her drapes. She can smell breakfast being cooked-- the slightly burnt turkey bacon, pancakes, coffee, tea and something chocolatey. She can hear two laughs, Marius’s light and breathy, Cosette’s loud and nasal one that she’s always embarrassed of but Eponine loves to bits. She wonders if she was to get up and walk into the kitchen, if she would see Marius trying and failing to flip a pancake. Would she see Cosette with a whipped cream beard? Would she see the two of the attempting to fit in the kitchen at the same time with Cosette’s wings unfurled? Eponine smiles to herself and closes her eyes to the world for just a bit longer. They’ll wake her up when breakfast is ready, and she’ll kiss both of them good morning. They have forever to spend together, after all, and Eponine has never been so sated in her lifetime. 

**Author's Note:**

> 1 kudos/kind comment = 1 cat that marius sette & ep adopt ;))


End file.
